


smoke and wolves

by orphan_account



Series: persona 5 punk band au [5]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Drinking, Fire Escapes, Hands, M/M, Smoking, but akira?, goro akechi is not very smooth, yeah a little bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:35:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24128263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Goro is made of oil, cogs, fluttering birds in cages, and fool's gold. He runs on spite and yearning for things he doesn't deserve.His name is Kurusu Akira. He's everything Goro isn't. He's warm, visceral, and wild. He's made of flame and smoke, a pack of wolves all in one smile. He takes Goro gently in his jaws and runs.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira
Series: persona 5 punk band au [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1697143
Comments: 4
Kudos: 51





	smoke and wolves

Akechi Goro drinks to feel alive.

He lets himself be carried away in mechanical dances and smiles, songs that don't mean anything to him, and performances that leave him hollow and cold. That's why, every night after a show, he goes to the bar, and he pretends that he's not empty. Sometimes he sees a man of his age, young and lithe, freer than Goro could ever dream to be. They met in high school, very briefly. A school trip, he recalls. The boy (He was only a boy, then. They were so _young_ ) was a skinny, pale, defiant delinquent. Goro was the honor student, perfect, shiny, and trapped. Their eyes met in the crowd and he was asked a question. His answer was unimportant, but he spoke with a tone like diamonds. Sharp, beautiful, and unattainable to most. 

Goro didn't qualify. He was too scared to talk to him, worried that his eyes would swallow him whole, and he wouldn't have a façade to hide behind.

But fortune favors those who tempt fate. Goro saw him at the bar after the stadium lights blinked out, closing like lazy cats' eyes. Sometimes, Goro would indulge himself and watch him perform. He was so envious of his freedom, his will of orichalcum that could never be broken. Sometimes it made him angry. Not at him, but at himself. 

If Goro had the guts to face his shitty father and remove himself from his yoke, he could do what he wanted. He would be _free_. But he doesn't. He holds onto petty revenge.

Goro is made of oil, cogs, fluttering birds in cages, and fool's gold. He runs on spite and yearning for things he doesn't deserve. 

His name is Kurusu Akira. He's everything Goro isn't. He's warm, visceral, and _wild_. He's made of flame and smoke, a pack of wolves all in one smile. He takes Goro gently in his jaws and runs, tricking him into thinking there's an ending for Goro that doesn't end in sorrow and pain. They talk, they drink, and they leave the bar. 

"I can't help but feel that if we had met earlier you wouldn't be stuck in that shitty contract," Kurusu says, cursing the cigarette smoke off of his lips.

It pools in the air, hanging around him like a halo. Goro can smell him from here. Spice, smoke, and whiskey. He smells warm, feels warm next to Goro as they stand on the fire escape. He almost takes his hand. Instead, he takes a drag of Kurusu's cigarette, telling himself it's to piss off his manager. It's not. He clings onto the taste of Kurusu on the cigarette, letting it hang in his mouth with the smoke. Kurusu's slender fingers brush against his as he takes the cigarette back. Goro shivers and swears to himself it the cold November air on the back of his neck. He almost believes it. 

Kurusu is his rival. Shido gives him the outlets to perform, but only on the condition that he does better than The Phantom Thieves. Of course, he can't. No one can. They're _revolutionary_. But Goro still does well. Everyone loves the charming, mild, boring Akechi Goro. When he writes his own songs, they're dirty and furious, and sharp. He jumps at the chance to sing with Kurusu. Kurusu sounds like he smells. Burning at the edges, sweet one moment and guttural the next. 

But they're standing on the fire escape, now. Kurusu is smoking again, looking out onto the street. 

"Join our band, Akechi. We would love someone like you," He says, eyes trained on the cars meandering below them. Goro leans on the rail, the wind biting into his knuckles.

"No."

Kurusu shrugs. "I thought you'd say that. Doesn't make it any less of a loss, though."

He passes the cigarette to Goro, but his fingers don't touch his. He takes a drag, the taste of Kurusu infused with the smoke. It pools in his mouth like fire in a dragon's. He exhales, the haze blocking his view of the city. He passes the cigarette back to Kurusu and bites his tongue when Kurusu's fingers wrap around his. Kurusu raises an eyebrow when Goro looks away, letting their hands drip apart. Goro opens his mouth to speak, but Kurusu does as well. He apologizes and motions for Kurusu to speak. He smiles in gratitude, not seeing the way Goro's knuckles tighten. 

"I like talking to you, a whole lot. But what will it take for you to open up to me? Hell, if you're worried about Shido, I'll issue a statement and everything-" 

Goro acts without thinking and places his hand over Kurusu's mouth. He shakes his head, chewing his bottom lip.

" _Please_. Don't."

He removes his hand from Kurusu's face, only to find it trapped by another. Looking him straight in the eyes, Kurusu brings Goro's hand to his mouth and places a gentle kiss on his palm. Goro freezes. The jet-haired singer suddenly loses his smooth confidence and drops Goro's hand like a hot stone. 

"I-I'm sorry, I thought-" He stammers, but Goro just grabs his hand again.

He doesn't move. He _can't_ move, just clinging to Kurusu's hand like it's the only living thing in his mechanical world. Kurusu leans in and Goro can smell the warm spice radiating off of him. Sparks travel through his lips as Kurusu ghosts over them, his clockwork heart stuttering in pathetic little gasps. He can't take it anymore and he surges up, meeting Kurusu's mouth. He tastes better than the cigarette told him he would. He is wild and passionate, wolf-like canines rolling over his bottom lip. 

His hands find Kurusu's hair, and it is softer than he expected. They pull away, breathless and soaring above the city as the cigarette falls from Kurusu's fingers, crushed beneath the heel of his boot as he dives back in again, hands gently pulling him closer. 

"Kurusu, I-" Goro mumbles, lost in the smell of spice and whiskey. He is silenced with another kiss.

" _Akira_. Call me Akira." And he does, but it gets lost in their kiss. 

Akira melts the gold away, leaving raw, unadulterated loss when he inevitably leaves. Goro goes to his shows, Akira goes to his, and they rendezvous afterward. The clockwork slows and he thaws, letting it all fall away when they talk. He can lose the cogs from where they're tightly screwed in his chest, the oil spilling away into the night air. The birdcage is opened, the raven held tenderly in the jaws of the wolf.

**Author's Note:**

> some soft stuff 
> 
> goro isn't as messed up bc there's no metaverse, which is probably for the best.


End file.
